


cross a thousand stars

by curtailed



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alien Invasion, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Friends to...something, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Pining, Road Trips, Soft Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtailed/pseuds/curtailed
Summary: TA: what planet are you goiing two fuck up?CG: SOME PLACE CALLED TERRARIA.CG: PRETTY SURE IT'S NOT YOURS, IF THAT'S ANY SHRED OF CONSOLATION.
Relationships: Sollux Captor & Aradia Megido, Sollux Captor/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	cross a thousand stars

**Author's Note:**

> this thing has stewed in my drafts since october
> 
> let it be freeeee

TA: dude there ii2 no fuckiing way you're an aliien.

TA: how the hell would we even be talkiing unle22 you were 2poonfed englii2h 101 iin your cocoon2 or 2omethiing?

CG: HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO CONVINCE YOU HERE?

CG: I'VE SEARCHED UP PICTURES OF YOUR SPECIES, AND FOR YOUR LEAKING PAN I'LL EVEN LAY IT OUT ON YOU WHAT EXACTLY CONSTITUTES MYSELF AS A DISTINCT BIOLOGICAL SENTIENCE FROM YOUR HORNLESS BATCH OF PAN-FRIED GRUBS.

CG: FIRST, AS CLUED IN ABOVE: YOU DON'T HAVE FUCKING HORNS!!!!!

CG: WHAT KIND OF FUCKING SPECIES DOESN'T EVEN HAVE HORNS? DOES YOUR HEAD WOBBLE LIKE A DERANGED WINGBEAST BECAUSE IT'S ALL MISSHAPEN AND UNBALANCED?

TA: lmfao the hell ii2 thii2 logiic, iif you had 2ome kiind of antler horn 2hiit wouldn't your neck 2nap from the weiight?

TA: OH WAIIT, your head'2 two den2e two even move, you probably turn your whole body ju2t two look at 2omethiing liike a fuckiing rever2e-owl.

CG: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE HAIR ON YOUR LIMBS? THAT'S SO FUCKING UNSANITARY, HOW MUCH SHIT GETS CAUGHT IN YOUR ORGANIC MATTRESS COATING?

TA: are you 2ayiing you don't have haiir on ANY of your 2kiin?

TA: ehehehe, now ii'm iimagiiniing you a2 thii2 bald, peeliing baby-lookiing a22wiipe 2lammiing your 2tubby liittle fiinger2 iintwo the keyboard.

TA: why am ii even 2urprii2ed, that'2 probably what you're pulliing off iin real liife.

CG: SHUT THE FUCK UP, I'M NOT BALD.

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU SACK OF HYPOCRITICAL SHIT? SOME OF YOUR ***HUMANS*** ARE BALD. NOT A FUCKING HAIR ON THEIR HEADS.

CG: HOW DID EVOLUTION EVEN GRANT YOU THE MERCY OF NERVES AND PAN CELLS WITHOUT VOMITING IN HER OWN CHUTE?

TA: the 2ame fuckiing rea2on why you're all grey and haiirle22 and type liike jacka22e2.

TA: 2peakiing of whiich:

TA: ii 2tiill don't 2ee why you can't ju2t 2end a piicture of your2elf over.

CG: WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR A TRULY, MASTER-CRAFTED REBUTTAL TO YOUR QUESTION?

CG: WOULD YOU ALLOW YOUR MIND TO COMPREHEND THAT A) I'M NOT FUCKING COOL WITH SENDING PICTURES TO STRANGERS OVER THE GRUBNET AND B) WHY DON"T YOU DO THE FUCKING SAME?

TA: ii a2ked you fiir2t.

TA: and ii don't thiink we're 2tranger2 bro, we've been fuckiing talkiing over thii2 2hiitty 2erver for three year2.

TA: we've already e2tablii2hed we're both the 2ame age two iif ii diid thiirteen diiviided by 2iix correctly.

CG: FUCK. YOU.

TA: dude, lol, ii'm not tryiing to a2k for nude piic2 or 2hiit, but there'2 no way ii'm beliieviing you're a goddamn aliien wiithout 2ome hardcore proof.

CG: ...

CG: YEAH, NO.

CG: YOU'LL HAVE TO LAY AWAKE AT NIGHT, WONDERING WHAT MY DIVINE, HORNY VISAGE APPEARS LIKE BEHIND YOUR EYELIDS, GO TO YOUR DEATHBED WONDERING WHAT 3D MODEL CONSTITUTES MY FACE.

TA: uh....

TA: horny?

CG: IT MEANS I HAVE HORNS, DUMBASS.

CG: WHY, DOES IT MEAN SOMETHING ELSE IN YOUR INFERIOR CULTURE?

TA: nope, of cour2e not. you're 100% riight.

CG: I THOUGHT SO.

It's only because he's practically made of genius that Sollux survives the apocalypse; the basement's courtesy of the dark days of gamer binges, and when he emerges blinking to dusty sun it's to razed land and the grass boiling like ash. He's already prepared. He's got his backpack hanging off ratty straps, water and food and batteries filled up to the kazoo, and parting from his computers was the equivalent of being shot point-blank in the groin.

He's got a shitty truck, a nice shiny machete, and a sweet pair of tinted shades to accompany him -- the latter more than not gets pushed up into his hair, but they lend his eyes the sweet mercy of seeing to drive without being burnt like a second-rate kiln. They're Aradia's gift for him on his 13th birthday -- and in return he had gotten her Harrison Ford's own fedora using ill-gained profits from the federal bank.

Aradia's also dead, if her sister isn't shitting around and being completely passed out after delivering the news.

"Figured you'd want to know first," she adds on as an afterthought, and the news that there's not even enough for Aradia to bury -- she lived in California, where the invasion had struck the hardest -- makes Sollux sink to what remains of the kitchen tiles, clutching the phone like he's holding a tiger's tail and never, _ever,_ wanting to let go.

"Sorry," Damara says finally, and her voice is hollow as she bids him goodbye.

====

TA: iif you can't 2end me a piic at lea2t tell me what your 2ociiety'2 liike?

TA: can you all fly or 2omethiing.

CG: I DON'T KNOW, ACTUALLY. WINGS ARE A PRETTY RARE COSMETIC MUTATION.

TA: damn.

TA: are you all one appearance or all fanged or all black haiired or all one gender?

CG: GENDER'S BEEN A RECENT TREND LATELY. I THINK THE CLOSEST EQUIVALENT TO YOUR HUMAN CULTURE IS AKIN TO CHOOSING YOUR HAIR COLOR.

CG: YOU'RE BORN WITH ONE SET OF HUES, BUT YOU'RE ALWAYS FREE TO CHANGE IT IN YOUR LIFETIME.

TA: nah, dude, here gender ii2 apparently a biig fuckiing deal.

TA: liike, our braiin2 are literally developed the 2ame, any iirrelevant 2tructural diifference2 ii2n't goiing two ju2tiify why one 2ub2et ha2 two treat the other2 liike 2hiit, or viice ver2a, or how people 2tiill blame 2omethiing they have no control iin 2electiing.

CG: SO...LIKE CASTEISM?

TA: 2ome of our 2ociietiies had ca2te2, yeah, but nowaday2 iit'2 not two concrete.

TA: liike, there'2 2ome iimpliiciit hiint2 of iit but mo2t countriie2 pretty much outlaw iit.

CG: WE'VE GOT THE HEMOSPECTRUM. IT PRETTY MUCH SORTS OUT OUR ENTIRE LIFE BASED ON WHATEVER SHITTY COLOR YOUR BLOOD HAPPENS TO BE.

CG: THE BLUER YOU GO, THE HIGHER UP THE RUNGS YOU CLIMB -- UNTIL THE COLORS END AT FUCHSIA AT THE FUCKING TOP, WHICH IS LITERALLY A RED.

TA: red2 at bottom?

CG: BROWNS AND YELLOWS. GREENS AND TEALS WERE IN THE MIDDLE.

CG: THERE'S NO FUCKING SUCH THINGS AS RED BLOOD COLORS.

TA: ....riight.

TA: ii'm goiing two piitch out a gue22 here and hypothe2iize you're not exactly on the hiigher 2iide.

CG: WOW, COULD YOU HAVE SAID THAT ANY MORE CLEARER.

CG: NO, SERIOUSLY, DRIVE IN THE NAIL HOME THAT PRETTY MUCH SOCIETY COMPELS US TO KISS THE FUCKING TOES OF ANYONE A TICK HIGHER BECAUSE OF SOME ENDOWED TRAIT NO ONE EVEN DESERVES. THE LITERAL FUCKING COLOR OF SWILL AND SOMEHOW I HAVE TO LIVE IN A SHITTY HIVE AND FUCK-OR-DIE IN ONE DAY TO AVOID BEING DRONE-BOMBED: BUT WAIT! I TAKE ONE STEP OUT OF LINE AND THEY'LL HAVE THE LEGAL JURISDICTION TO ACTUALLY CUT OFF MY FUCKING HEAD.

CG: FUCK YOU, OKAY? FUCK. YOU. YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW ANYTHING.

Some odd equilibrium has been reached by the time Sollux hightails onto the open, empty roads: there's not enough military to clean up the mess, but not enough drones to finish the rest of the humans off. The stale end result is a landscape bombed and bleached, bones pulverized and blood vaporized, houses transformed into hollow husks like a polished skull. He drives carefully, not wanting to strain the engines, and doesn't bother turning on the radio.

Day one of unfortunate road trip: find somewhere to sleep.

The truck is suitably fine. He sleeps lightly with the machete tucked loosely in his belt, the heat dropping down to a dry cold during the night, and from his foggy windshield he can't even see the stars.

TA: ii'm 2orry.

CG: YOU'VE ALREADY SAID THAT FOR THE GOGDAMN HUNDREDTH TIME, IDIOT.

CG: I MEAN, I SHOULD'VE EXPECTED THAT YOUR CIVILIZATION PROBABLY DOESN'T FUNCTION THE SAME WAY.

CG: IT'S FINE. I MEAN IT. YOU DIDN'T KNOW AND IT'S UNFAIR OF ME TO IMPOSE EXPECTATIONS ON YOU.

TA: yeah, but that doe2n't make my word2 excu2able or anythiing.

TA: liike, iit'2 kiind of ju2t 2ettliing iin for me that we're actually completely 2eparate 2peciie2, even iif we talk the 2ame and 2tuff.

TA: 2o yeah, ii'm 2orry for...liike, everythiing.

CG: ...

CG: MY HEART WOULD MELT IF I DIDN'T JUST DIE IN A PUDDLE OF SWEET, GAG-WORTHY LIQUID.

TA: fuuuuuuuck you.

CG: NAH.

CG: WANNA PLAY GRUB FORTRESS 2?

TA: thought you'd never a2k, diip2hiit.

He wakes to a sickle pressed against his throat, a dark silhouette crouched in the passenger seat.

"Don't move," a voice rasps, and yeah, that's definitely one of those aliens, the way their tongue's trying to shape around foreign words and a low, steady click resonates from the back of their throat. Also, their skin is crocodile-grey. "You realize you forgot to lock the fucking doors, right?"

"You want the truck, the machete, or my flesh?" Sollux deadpans. He's not even afraid anymore; he'll just die out here, lost in the middle of nowhere, alone and forgotten like he never existed. He wonders if that's how Aradia felt before she died. "Make it painless, okay? I just woke up."

He can't turn his head to see the intruder clearly, but he hears a frown in their question -- "you _want_ me to kill you."

"No. But I don't care if you do."

There's several long, agonizing moments of waiting before the pressure lifts from his neck. Sollux doesn't even bother going for the machete. With returned mobility, he's able to observe the interloper better -- 

"You're one of the invaders," he says, and it's not a question, not when there's what seems like tatters of a uniform hanging off of thick grey skin, and then Sollux's gaze travels up to their face -- they look humanoid enough, with eyes and nose and mouth and ears, but the scelera is yellow -- the irises red-grey -- and out of a mess of tangled, wild black hair pokes out two candy-corn horns, soft and nubby.

Not that bad on the eyes, actually.

"Invaders," the alien repeats.

"Yeah, I don't think you first stepped on this planet when you cracked from your bizarro eggs or something. But -- " Sollux flicks his eyes down to the uniform again, noting how smeared it is with dirt and mud. " -- you're not exactly in good graces with the rest of your squadron, aren't you."

"You don't know anything, human." The alien's voice is flat and heavy.

"I also literally don't give a shit. And since you're the one with the big fucking sickle -- " Sollux stretches out his arms lazily, working out the upper-arm cramps -- "where to, oh great leader. Enlighten me. Let me show you the wonders of driving."

CG: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE NOT AN ADULT?

CG: YOU LITERALLY JUST SAID "ii'm 2eventeen, diip2hiit, ii can almo2t vote"

CG: VOTE FOR WHAT?

TA: you realiize you're falliing for one of the olde2t trap2 iin the book of iinter2peciie2, riight?

TA: we liive on diifferent planet2 iin diifferent 2tar 2y2tem2, iit'd make 2en2e iif our iincrement of tiime WA2 AL2O DIIFFERENT.

TA: a22umiing our rate of maturatiion ii2 2iimiilar, you 2aid you were how old agaiin?

CG: UGH, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY TOLD YOU.

CG: I'LL BE EIGHT SWEEPS OLD IN A PERIGEE.

TA: what age ii2 con2iidered adulthood?

CG: EIGHT SWEEPS, SMARTASS.

TA: okay, okay.

TA: we're both about two be adult2 iin our re2pectiive culture2, but your end ha2 the po22iibiiliity of beiing iin2ta-kiilled on 2iight, whiile miine2 giive2 me the abiiliity two buy ciigarette2.

CG: ...

TA: ....

CG: THIS STILL GIVES US NO CLUE HOW OLD WE ARE RELATIVE TO EACH OTHER.

TA: ii2 iit two much two ask for two a22ume we're of the 2ame age and mentaliity?

CG: YES.

TA: fuck.

"There's no point for cars," the alien says when they roll up to the lakeside.

By definition Sollux should be trying to head to some survival base, or some military encampment hovering outside of Tampa or New Jersey or where the movies always showed them settling, but for now he's simply following the freeway as he sees fit. The issue of gasoline has him a little on edge as he parks the car next to a brace of dead oaks.

"Cool."

"I mean it," the alien insists, scrabbing furiously at the seatbelt. The strap of polyester's already marred with claw marks from yellowing nails, and Sollux fails to suppress his shudder over destroyed property. "I mean, most of our hives were clustered around some communal transportation, like a long-distance locomotive."

"A train?"

"Shut. Up."

"Look," Sollux says, bending down to scoop water into his canteen, "I'll make this clear for you. Car fuel's going to be dipping to an all-time low soon, I'm probably going to get irradiation at this rate, and if you kill me then good luck driving this piece of junk on your own. I'm ready to waste away in one week, tops."

"From what?"

"The irradiation, dumbass." The alien glimpses up at the sky confusedly; the sun is still bright and patronizing, although it already accelerates to the horizon, the edge of the mountains dappled in silvery-gold. 

"Look," Sollux repeats, "where do you want to go?"

The alien rubs their hands up and down the opposite arms, an oddly vulnerable movement. "I...I mean, don't _you_ have somewhere to be?"

"Nope."

"Why the hell not?"

"Everyone I know is dead." _Even him,_ Sollux thinks almost wistfully, and he hasn't spoken to him in years, in a time and place when Earth's skies were still clear. Now there's no signal at all, the networks blotted out into empty silence. 

The alien's quiet for a while. "I don't have anywhere to be," they mumble, their voice raspy. "I mean -- not really."

"Just nowhere near your freaky alien bases."

"...Yeah."

"Sounds like a great road trip." On an instinct, Sollux can't help but pat the alien's shoulder as he traipses back to the truck. The heat of their shoulder is almost startling, but at the same time it reminds him of a warm, cozy lamp, the heat soft and soothing. 

TA: are you 2ure you don't want to 2ee the2e moviie2?

CG: FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME, I KNOW FOR SURE THEY'RE ABSOLUTE GARBAGE BEGGING TO BE DEGRADED AND SLANDERED BEFORE MY KEYBOARD.

CG: NO, I DON'T WANT TO WATCH "plan 9 from outer 2pace," THE TROLL VERSION WAS ALREADY SHITTY ENOUGH.

TA: ehehehehe, your call dude.

TA: but 2eriiou2ly, are you guy2 the iinvadiing type2 liike the body 2natcher2 or 2omethiing?

CG: ...

CG: THIS IS A PRETTY WEIRD QUESTION, MAN.

TA: look, the chance we'll run iintwo each other iin a 2hiitty iinva2iion ii2 2uch a non-exii2tent black hole that ii could fly one of tho2e 2pace2hiip2 you mentiioned earliier riight through iit.

CG: ...

CG: OKAY, SO I'M NOT GOING TO SUGARCOAT THIS ISSUE.

CG: YES, THE EMPIRE CARRIES OUT INVASIONS. THAT'S PRIMARILY HOW THE ALTERNIAN EMPIRE EXPANDS; THEY SUBJUGATE COLONIES AND MOONS SYSTEMICALLY EITHER THROUGH FORCED SOCIETAL ASSIMILATIONS OR STRAIGHT-UP GENOCIDE.

CG: NO, I'M NOT PROUD OF IT. BUT THERE'S NOT MUCH I CAN DO ABOUT IT, SINCE I HAVEN'T BEEN RECRUITED INTO THE MILITARY AND I'M STILL NOT AN ADULT.

TA: recruiited iintwo the miiliitary?

CG: ...DO YOU NOT HAVE A MILITARY DRAFT WHEN YOU REACH ADULTHOOD?

TA: techniically, no, unle22 we're iin wartiime.

TA: ii mean, iit'2 diifferent for people around the world.

TA: kiid2 younger than me get iillegally handed wiith guns even though they're practiically goddamn chiildren and apparently iit'2 ea2iier to exploiit theiir mental health and economiic 2iituatiion.

CG: HUH.

CG: OKAY, SO WE USED TO HAVE SOME HIGHBLOODS ADVOCATING THAT THEY SHOULD LOWER THE RECRUITING AGE TO ACCOMODATE US PRE-ADULTS.

CG: BUT THERE'S A HUGE FUCKING GAP BETWEEN GRUBHOOD AND ADULTHOOD.

CG: NOT SAYING WE ALL GROW TEN FEET OR ANYTHING, BUT OUR SKIN BECOMES MORE RESILIENT TO SUNLIGHT, WE GET STRONGER, AND PSYCHICS ARE EVEN MORE ENHANCED IF YOU POSSESS THEM. THERE'S NO POINT IN WASTING WIGGLER LIVES AWAY AND NOT GIVING US AN OPPORTUNITY TO BECOME USEFUL FODDER AMONGST REACHING MATURATION.

TA: 2o your 2ociiety ha2 no gender dii2criimiinatiion and no u2e of miiliitant chiildren?

TA: wow, 2iign me the fuck up, ii want two go planet hoppiing now.

CG: SHUT IT, YOU TOOL.

CG: WE ALSO HAVE TWELVE KINDS OF RACISM.

TA: touché.

"You won't even give me your name? Really?"

"I don't trust you," the troll states. After bit of cultural exchange, Sollux manages to wrest that these aliens _do_ have gender, and the one sitting besides him is male. The words "prove it" had been on the tip of Sollux's tongue before he realizes he doesn't want a sickle in his gut. Not yet, anyhow. 

"Whatever." Fuck it, he has nothing to lose. He pulls over the truck at the roadside, praying no stray glass or shrapnel ends up at the tiles. He doesn't have much miles on this piece of shit anyway. "I'm Sollux."

"What kind of name is that?"

"An asshole one." He offers a hand to the alien; hand-shaking is apparently a universal gesture, because the alien tentatively shakes his hand back. His skin is warmer than Sollux expected, callused at the fingertips. _Makes sense. He's a soldier, first and foremost._

"I'm Karkat."

"Alright." Sollux unbuckles his seatbelt, ignoring the principle rules of driving with ease, and adjusts the chair until he's practically horizontal. "I'm tired as fuck, but I'm not in a sleeping mood. You?"

"We're nocturnal."

"Damn, you got me. How do you want to pass the night, then?"

The alien -- _Karkat_ \-- shrugs a little. He's still wearing the rags of his uniform, and Sollux makes a mental note to scavenge for clothes. "Why are you helping me?"

"You threatened me with a fucking sickle, dude. I'm not suicidial." The last sentence leaves a bitter taste in Sollux's mouth.

"Yeah, but -- you could just poison any shit you gave me, or told me to stay in the car and blow it up."

"I'm not blowing up my only source of transportation." He can barely make out Karkat's features in the darkness. "Besides -- like I told you -- I don't have anywhere to be. I don't have anyone waiting for this sad carcass." He gestures to himself.

Karkat's features twist into something soft, the kind of emotion that makes Sollux's stomach flutter a little. He doesn't even _know_ this guy well -- he was just some sickle-wielding deserting mildly-attractive alien asshole that he has the wrong fortune of receiving in the truck -- but already he's growing fond of him. Even with practically zero cultural bridges, he can easily trade words with Karkat as if they've known each other their entire childhoods.

CG: BAD NEWS.

TA: the hell.

CG: I GOT RECRUITED.

CG: OKAY, TECHNICALLY IT COULD'VE GONE WORSE. SOME DRONE COULD'VE JUST POKED ME IN THE ARM AND THEN SEE MY BLOOD AND I'D BE TARGET PRACTICE COME DAWN.

CG: BUT IT'S ALL GOOD NOW. I GUESS.

CG: I HAD A...A HIGHBLOOD FRIEND THAT HELPED ME OUT. THEY LET ME BYPASS THE USUAL PRELIMINARIES AND STRAIGHT INTO THE BOTTOM-OF-THE-BUCKET RANKS.

TA: 2o are you....

TA: iin the miiliitary now?

CG: YEAH.

CG: I JUST TURNED EIGHT SWEEPS TWO WEEKS AGO.

TA: you diidn't tell me?

CG: WHERE IN ANY CONJURED CONTRACT DOES IT SAY I HAVE TO? YOU'RE NOT MY FUCKING KEEPER.

TA: no, douchewiipe, you ju2t made me worry my braiin2 out when you diidn't re2pond two my me22age for HALF A MONTH.

TA: ii thought you fuckiing diied or 2omethiing.

CG: WELL, I'M NOT. ROUND ONE IN MY FAVOR, WHOOP DE FUCKING DO.

TA: are you even allowed two talk to me?

CG: MAYBE. NOT REALLY. I'M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU AS SECRETLY AS I CAN.

CG: THE CONNECTION'S ACTUALLY STRONGER, WEIRDLY ENOUGH.

CG: WE'VE BEEN OFF PLANET FOR A FEW DAYS NOW.

TA: you're iin 2PACE?!?!

CG: ...YES.

TA: holy 2hiit.

TA: hoooly 2hiit!

TA: ii....

TA: ....

TA: are you okay?

CG: WHAT KIND OF FUCKING QUESTION IS THAT?

CG: OF COURSE I'M PEACHY. MY BLOOD COLOR MIGHT BE DISCOVERED ANY TIME SOON, I HAVE TO POSE AS A RUSTBLOOD, NONE OF MY FRIENDS ARE ON THIS VESSEL UNIT, AND I'M PROBABLY GOING TO DIE ON THE FIRST PLANET WE LAND ON.

CG: SO YES, EVERYTHING'S GOING FUCKING PERFECTLY, THANK YOU FOR ASKING!

TA: ii

TA: ii'm 2orry.

CG: ...

CG: NO, I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T MEAN TO FLIP OUT ON YOU LIKE THAT.

CG: IT'S LEGITIMATELY NOT YOUR FAULT.

CG: HELL, YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON I CAN TALK TO WITHOUT THE FIREWALL DETECTING OUTSIDER MESSAGES. IT'S A RELIEF, REALLY.

TA: yeah, ii encrypted my comm2 liike half a year ago.

TA: actually, ii've got an iidea.

CG: IF IT DOESN'T END WITH, "MAKE ME NOT GET CULLED," THEN YOU CAN STUFF IT BACK INTO YOUR NOOK.

TA: ii regret actually knowiing that term.

TA: but ii've been working on adaptiing my maiinframe here on earth to your planet'2 network, even though iit'2 been a complete paiin in the a22.

TA: ii'm ju2t expanding my chat cliient wiith you to more acce22 to your webwork2.

TA: ii might even be able two get iintwo your 2hiip'2 computer2 iin a week or two.

CG: THAT'S...PRETTY FUCKING IMPRESSIVE.

CG: BUT WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?

TA: ii don't know?

TA: ii could hack iintwo your record2, ii gue22.

TA: or anyone el2e'2.

TA: recaliibrate work tiime2, change maiintenance 2chedule2, etc. etc.

TA: and they can't 2hut me down a2 effectiively becau2e my 2ource ii2 pre2umably liike liight year2 from your 2hiip.

CG: ...YOU'D DO THAT? FOR ME?

TA: well, yeah.

TA: you're my friiend.

CG: FRIEND?

CG: ...

CG: OH.

CG: I

CG: I SEE.

TA: huh?

CG: I HAVE TO GO.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

CG: <3

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

TA: ....

"But seriously, where are we going."

"Shut up," Karkat mutters, still furiously concentrating on driving the truck. His foot flits nervously between the brake and the pedal, as if it's indecisive on which one he'd rather stomp on gleefully. His hands are as tight as vices on the wheel. "I got this. I _fucking_ got this."

The car veers dangerously, almost off the road, and it takes Sollux jerking the wheel back sharply to keep them in the lines again.

"You realized if there hadn't been this invasion you'd probably just roadsided seven cars, right?"

"I got better," Karkat grumbles.

"No, you didn't."

"I didn't crash this piece of garbage! That's enough to merit me some flaming badge already, asswipe." He takes a hand off to flail it around in Sollux's direction, and accidentally slams the car horn instead. The resultant shriek would be priceless if the car didn't just sway like a drunkard again.

"What the _FUCK_ was that?"

"A car horn."

"Why the hell would you -- what -- " Karkat's staring at the wheel like it'll eat him. " _Why,_ " he whispers desperately, like his heart's about to break.

Sollux tries to hide his smile as he looks out the window. He's moved them to the freeway, and occasionally they pass scraps and rubbish of totaled cars -- here, Sollux forces Karkat to drive under twenty -- but this section of the road is clean. Trees pass by, bowed and dying like old kings, and the sky's a soup of yellow-blue-grey smog that's murky around a red sun. 

The soft apocalypse.

He might've driven on this very road before. Aradia would be in shotgun, then, rolling her window down and screaming into the air while he laughs like a madman. The music, back when it still worked, would be cranked up to full volume and make the whole car shudder with its vibrations. The road is endless. It caters off to millions of unseen locations, each with their own treasures and secrets, and all of it has been reduced into the very dust he's breathing.

"...Sollux?"

He's not _crying_ like some damn baby, Sollux tells himself, pushing up his shades into his hair and pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes. The tears feel almost foreign. It's an unnatural stickiness that drips down his wrists, coating his eyelids, and he hasn't cried like this even when he heard Aradia was gone, forever, and it's just him and his truck and his machete and _who was he kidding,_ there's nothing for him anymore.He thinks of Aradia, dead and alive and nothing at all, and wishes he had been with her when she died. He thinks of another friend long ripped away, faded into dreams he wakes up from in the dead of night, and wishes for nothing at all.

"Hey, hey," and it does look Karkat mastered some basics of driving -- instead of braking, he lets the car deccelerate on its own in a straight line. Sollux's sobs aren't violent or messy. It's like eruptions going off deeply in his chest, pooling from his stomach, and his entire frame shudders intermittenly. A small, choked sound escapes from his throat. It's barely audible, but then Karkat's roping his arms around his shoulders -- even if awkwardly -- and tensely patting at his hair.

"Uh," Sollux manages.

Quick as that, Karkat withdraws, his face blushing reddishly. "I -- " he coughs a little, hands curling and uncurling in his lap. "Just -- I -- I'm...I'm sorry."

"What the hell are you sorry for?" Sollux's voice is bitter.

Karkat flinches by a minute amount. "I don't know, man. But -- " and here he gestures at himself, at his horns, his hair, his grey skin. "We didn't make your lives better. At all."

"You didn't choose to come here." Sollux's head is swimming, like it's been shoved hundreds of feet in a pressurized mining cave. "You didn't kill her, you didn't blow her house up, you ran away. You ran away and you're _with me_ and she's not, and I'm not with her, and I wish -- " _loss_ thrums like a plucked string, causing his hands to shake when he reaches up to take off his glasses. The glasses she gave him. "I wish I died with her. I don't want to live like this."

The look Karkat gives him is unreadable, but the troll starts up the car with exaggerated gentleness.

CG: I CAN'T DO THIS.

TA: ii'm not goiing two be 2ayiing "good luck" to you 2ubjugatiing aliien2.

TA: but don't let iit...

TA: ii don't know.

TA: get to your head?

CG: I CAN'T.

CG: I COULDN'T EVEN LET GO OF MY LUSUS.

CG: ...

TA: hey.

TA: hey, iit'2...

TA: well, not okay.

TA: but ii'm 2tiill your friiend, okay?

TA: you can alway2 talk two me about anythiing.

CG: ABOUT THAT.

CG: UM.

CG: WE'RE GOING TO BE GOING DOWN IN LOCKDOWN SOON. I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG IT'LL LAST BEFORE ENTRY.

CG: IT'S NOT GOING TO STOP YOUR COMMUNICATION LINK TO ME, BUT I WON'T HAVE THE CHANCE TO TALK TO YOU FOR A VERY LONG TIME.

CG: I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I'LL SURVIVE THIS.

TA: what planet are you goiing two fuck up?

CG: SOME PLACE CALLED TERRARIA.

CG: PRETTY SURE IT'S NOT YOURS, IF THAT'S ANY SHRED OF CONSOLATION.

TA: oh yeah, defiiniitely.

TA: 2o.

TA: ii won't be able two to talk to you.

CG: FOR THE LOVE OF GOG, I DON'T WANT IT TO BE THIS WAY.

CG: I...

CG: YOU'VE BEEN MY FRIEND SO LONG.

CG: AND.

CG: MAYBE...

CG: I'M PRETTY SURE IT'S JUST ME, BUT...

CG: MAYBE MORE?

TA: ....what?

CG: I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU THIS BEFORE I GO OFF TO DIE.

CG: ...

CG: I PITY YOU.

CG: I THINK.

CG: SOMETIMES I HATE YOU TOO, BUT I THINK YOU'RE PATHETIC MOST OF THE TIME.

CG: AND I DON'T KNOW IF YOU FEEL THE SAME WAY

CG: HELL, WHO AM I KIDDING, I NEVER HAD A CHANCE WITH YOU.

CG: WE'RE LIGHT YEARS APART.

CG: I'LL BE DEAD AND YOU'LL BE ALIVE.

CG: FUCK, I...

CG: I'M GOING TO MISS YOU.

CG: GOG

CG: ...

TA: ....

TA: there'2 2ome iintergalatiic tran2latiional error goiing on here, huh.

TA: ....

TA: can ii 2ee your face?

TA: ....plea2e?

CG: I'M SORRY.

CG: I'M SO FUCKING SORRY.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling twinArmageddons [TA]

"Once," Karkat begins, staring up at the night sky, "I had a friend."

"Uh huh."

They sit against the trunk, just off to the side of the road. The grass is dry and brittle under Sollux's legs, but the stars captivate him. They're barely viewable through a murky film of dust, but they're there, and that's what matters the most. They've never gone away.

"I've known him for a long time." The troll stares down at his own hands. "We've talked a lot. He was from a -- a completely different world. Didn't know anything about how ours worked, not until I told him, and he never left me even then -- " Karkat swallows audibly, his face tight. "I loved him. Love him. That's a word I learned here."

"Friend?"

"Love." The longing in Karkat's voice is clear, and it reminds Sollux of his own friend, the one that poured out his heart to him before walking off to die. He wonders where CG is, if he's in an unmarked grave on some hostile planet, if he's been discovered by his own comrades and torn into pieces. The tears that threaten to prickle his eyes is a different kind from Aradia's -- it's more muted, more soft, but the _pain_ shakes him down to his toes. 

"He probably thinks I'm dead," Karkat continues softly. "I've tried reaching him when I got onto this planet. He might be dead. He might've..." his hands clench hard around each other. "He might've forgot about me. Moved on."

Somewhere across the cosmos, Sollux thinks, an old friend lies still and cold. 

The body acts on its own. With no explanation Sollux finds his hand curled up in Karkat, fingers lacing throught the other's, a stark reminder that someone else breathing and living remains besides him. Blood pulses soft and warm under touches. A breeze passes over their skin, but the brief chill only has Karkat squeezing back his hand, his eyes tired and sorrowful as they watch the stars.


End file.
